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Chapter One

Chapter One | Beginners' Guide to Highschool Cliques and Clichés

Erin

"Hey, what's with the 'my-hamster-just-died' atmosphere?" Maggie asked, setting down her lunch tray across from us.

"Erin got a detention." Samantha answered for me while I shoved my face on the table.

"From who?"

"Mr. Stowsky." I growled, proceeding to munch on a mushy custard cake. "I was bored. He caught me talking at his class."

Maggie chuckled. "You really have to watch out for him. I had Mr. Stowsky last year for pre-calc, and he gives out detentions every single day."

I sighed. This will be one hell of a year.

Just then, I saw a sandy haired guy wearing an old tweed jacket, looking like a lost puppy in the sea of hormonal teenagers.

"Theo! Here!" I called out, waving my hands up to him.

Our friend made his way to our direction, his face lighting up with relief. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Some guy thought it was funny to hide my bag on the faculty restroom. Good thing it's water-proof."

We looked at the said bag, which was dripping with something that may or may not be water. He shoved it under his seat.

I was about to ask how everyone's day was so far when a flying apple core hit me on the head.

"Out of the way, uglies!" A snotty looking guy jeered at us, proceeding to throw the rest of his lunch on the trash bins beside our table while his lackeys hooted out like hyenas.

Okay, let me tell you something about this school.

West Morgan High, like any other schools (most likely), has cliques.

Yup. C-L-I-Q-U-E-S.

Which are divided into two major groups.

As usual, there's the Cool Kids, the higher levels of the school hierarchy. The coolest of all the Cool Kids are the Top Dogs.

They are what everyone considers as the gods and goddesses of West Morgan. And the one who ruled the Top Dogs is Jake, the captain of the soccer team.

Next to them are the Richie Rich, then the Models, the Jocks, and the Cheerleaders.

And there's the lower class, which, in this school, are called the Bottom Feeders

This level is sub-divided into various groups. There are the Nerds, who were all suspiciously wearing glasses and neat, shapeless outfits.

Alongside them are the Geeks, who knew everything from Star Wars to Doctor Who.

Then, there's the Goths, wearing dark clothes and listening to darker music.

There are a lot of other cliques under the Bottom Feeders. There's the Average, the Clueless Idiots, the Sleazers, the Dirt Poor, and more.

And, of course, the lowest of the low.

The Losers.

It may not sound that devastatingly worse being called a Loser, but being branded as one means that you might as well kiss your dreams of a good high school life good-bye. You'll be the bully's favorite, the one example of what not to be in life. You will be the subject of every one's ridicule.

Yeah, you guessed it. We belong to the 'Bottom'. Maggie being a Nerd, Samantha a Goth, Theo who is (unfortunately) one of the Losers. And me, the Average Plain-Jane who seemingly always find herself in trouble.

Not that we could do anything about that. There's an unknown school rule here that once you're branded, there's never going back. And you have to live up with everyone's expectations with the clique you are in.

Hence, the Top Dogs are perfect, jocks are muscular, cheerleaders have sexy bodies, geeks dress...well, geeky, nerds all have glasses, and the list goes on. Like it or not.

Uh-huh. Just think of it like a high school-version of Hogwarts. (You know, where Gryffindors are always brave and Slytherins are automatically bad.)

I know, I know. This whole thing is stupid and senseless. I don't even know where and when all of this started. It just sort-of happened, and we all stopped wondering and learned to simply roll with it.

Yes. We are all hopeless.

Just then, the lunchroom doors opened. Everyone stopped talking as a group of tall, beautiful girls walked in, headed by West Morgan High's princess, Amy Collins (whose sunny blonde hair is being gracefully blown back by an invisible wind).

Wow, what an entrance.

Amy is a tenth grader like me, Sam, and Theo, but as early as when we were freshies, she was already a part of the Top Dogs.

Well, why wouldn't she be? She's beautiful, talented, athletic, and kind. The perfect angel.

Theo trained his eyes on the newcomers, especially the one in front, as they lined up at the lunch queue.

"Wey-hey-hey..." I wiggled my eyebrows at my friends. "Look at Romeo here."

The boy across me blushed, immediately dropping his gaze back to his lunch tray. "W-What?"

Sam threw a pea at him, snorting. "Anyone with brains could see how your eyes twinkle every time you look at her."

"Eyes don't twinkle." Theo said, frowning. "Unless this is a sleazy sci-fi movie, and a bunch of aliens replaced my eyes with stars...o-or diamonds."

The three of us rolled our eyes at him.

Sam leaned towards him, smacking his head lightly. "Jeez, Thee! I didn't mean it literally!"

"Oh, stop teasing him." I told her off, grinning. "Look at him, he's all red."

Theo's blush deepened, glaring at me. "I don't know why I'm friends with you guys."

"Because you love us." I said, nudging him on the shoulder. "It's perfect, actually. The three of us are Charlie's Angels, and you'll be our Charlie—!"

"Erin. Please shut up."

And I did.

Not after I let out a maniacal giggle.

....................

A/N: And here's another chapter! (Sam's pic on the side, by the way).

I really wanted to make this book as a sort-of parody of the different 'High school-Clichéd-Stories' for fun, though i'll tweak some twists here and there for variation.

This is unedited, so let me if there are things I need to correct.

Please comment, suggest, and vote!

xx >_< xx